


The Lonely Wanderer

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 06:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone's left Sherlock a note, with help from John he tries to find out who left it. Leads making them go abroad, anything could happen in a strange and new country...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or any of the characters, unfortunately.

“Sherlock! Have you seen the papers?” asked Mrs. Hudson as she finally reached the top of the stairs. Her hip had been really hurting her recently and John hadn’t had the time to buy her some more herbal remedies due to the last big case Sherlock insisted on taking. Throwing down his violin, taking care where it landed, Sherlock grabbed the Daily Mirror off his landlady and read the headline - ‘Police Baffled. 6 Deaths Overnight’. “Ahh, too simple!” mumbled Sherlock. “My brain needs entertaining, not six deaths. I mean, really Mrs Hudson. You thought this would interest me?”

“What’s not interesting?” John asked as he walked through the open door of 221B. He’d been out all night with Stamford and only just returned to their flat. “Oh nothing remotely interesting John. Did you move the toes from the kettle?”

“No, why would I – wait, you put toes in the kettle?”

“It’s an experiment! And someone has touched them, they’ve gone black and they weren’t before...” Sherlock whispered as he gracefully moved across the flat to find his violin. Mrs. Hudson turned and walked down the stairs, unnoticed by the two men. Sherlock started playing the sweet and soft music John liked to hear so much, it made all the confusion of the questions yet to be answered disappear. John started to drift off when the music was cut short and realisation washed over Sherlock’s face. “Everyone shut up” he exclaimed.

“It’s only me here and I wasn’t even-”

“Shut up. Who’s been in this flat in the last... ooh, 2 days?”

“Just me, you and Mrs. Hudson. Oh and Lestrade. Why?”

“Someone has been here”

“Who?”

“Let’s find out” Sherlock said as he grabbed his coat and scarf and swiftly left John alone in the flat. John had finally gotten used to him leaving like this but he was still a little annoyed every time he did so. He got his coat and ran out of the flat, hoping that his flatmate hadn’t already gotten a cab and left. It was then when his phone went ping. ‘Meet me at St Barts. And hurry – SH’. John let out a half hearted sigh and called the next cab.

“Sherlock, What are we doing?” John asked when he found Sherlock. He glanced around the room and saw Molly solitary working in the corner. She looked disappointed in herself and John knew why. “Molly. Explain to John what I’m doing. I’m too busy to speak.” Sherlock stated as he carefully picked up a pipette from the desk.

“He mentioned something about his flat, dust, break in and urm... oh, deaths. Have no idea what any of it means though. Do you?” Molly questioned John.

“A little” John reluctantly said as he sat down and looked at his watch. 1.30pm – time he should be having his lunch, though since he had started living with Sherlock, he had learned not to take food for granted. Sherlock would never eat when he’s on a case, although sometimes he would sit with John whilst he ate. “Sherlock, would you just tell me what’s going on?” John pleaded with Sherlock.

“Oh come on, keep up. I’ll go from the beginning: 221B, slight change of movement in the plant pot. You wouldn’t have moved it, your little finger tells me that and Mrs. Hudson wouldn’t have either - asked her not to and Lestrade wouldn’t have even noticed it so it must have been someone else. And that someone else -”

“Is the person that broke into our flat” interrupted John. He and Sherlock shared a warm hearted smile and their eyes lit up with realisation of what they’ve got themselves into – another case for the amazing Sherlock Holmes and his ‘doctor’, John Watson.

When the two men had arrived back to their flat, Mrs Hudson wasn’t there and Sherlock noticed something strange. His body stiffened and his fists curled into tight balls. He was angry and John knew never to question Sherlock when he was angry. Sherlock quickly scanned the hallway, yet he was able to take everything in. The smallest detail. The blot of mud on the floor, the fingerprint residue on the banister. The slight increase in the temperature. John still hadn’t learnt how he did this and he muttered to himself “Wonder what he’s found now...”

“Shut up John. Someone’s here. They’re upstairs. Do you still have your gun?”

“Yep. Will we need it?”

“Might do. Keep it hidden.” And with that, they quietly crept up the stairs, trying to not make a sound, but the heaviness of John’s footing alerted the intruder that they were there. A quick scuttle from inside their flat made Sherlock bounce into gear and run up the remainder of the stairs and hurtle through the door. 

“Ah-HA!” Sherlock shouted as he flew into his flat. It was empty. The intruder had gone but on the table scarred with sword marks, a single sheet of paper had been pinned down with Sherlock’s knife that normally held down his correspondence. Without hesitation, Sherlock removed the knife and held the tinted paper up to the light, making it easier to read the message left for him. It read:

‘You can try to find me. You can try to stop me. But you won’t. I know you won’t. Have fun trying to decipher this Mr Holmes. Have this on me’


	2. Chapter 2

“Sherlock?” questioned John as he saw the detective silhouetted in the frame of the window. “Did I even need my gun?”

  
“Yes, but you can put it away, we have no use for it now; whoever was here has gone, out of the window it seems.” Said Sherlock as he started to wander around the flat. Hardly anything had been moved, only the knife that now lay on the table where it had once been upright. The windows of 221B were open and the curtains moved with the rippling breeze that entered the flat.

“Sherlock, is that a note?” John quickly asked as Sherlock stuffed the paper into his long coat. As he did so a small noise came from John’s phone tucked away loosely in the top pocket of his jacket. Looking at the message John’s face suddenly went serious and Sherlock picked up on this.

“Mycroft?” Sherlock asked.

“Um, yeah. Wait how did you know?”

“Well the only people that text you is either me or Sarah. And seen as it is um what? 3 o’clock. Then Sarah would still be at work and I know I haven’t texted you. So it must be Mycroft because he texted me earlier too, he mustn’t be able to speak so is it Mycroft?”

“Yeah, brilliant!” John exclaimed as he smiled. “Right, but the message isn’t exactly something that we’d like to hear.” Sherlock snatched the phone from John and read the message in less than 5 seconds - I need both of you to get in the car outside. There’s no time to play about. Do it.  
Sherlock swooped out of the flat and John sighed heavily and ran after him, he had just got his breath back and didn’t want to run, but he wasn’t letting Sherlock out of his sight.

 

They arrived at a disused warehouse, the common place for meetings with Mycroft, and found him leaning upon his umbrella waiting for the two men. When they entered the room he started to speak, “Glad you two finally decided to show up. This is very important for the both of you. Have you looked at that note thoroughly?”

“Yes.” Sherlock retorted.

“And?” Mycroft teased. Sherlock quickly took the note out of his pocket and scanned it with his penetrating eyes.

“It’s written by a young female, travelling from America. Possibly New York or Boston, going off the paper and handwriting. It was written on a train? Wait no, plane. The hand writing is slightly shaken, but not that of a train or car and the pattern of where the pen has rubbed over the surface written on is that of the small table tray things on planes. So she must have written it on the journey to England.”

“You got all that from a little note? Oh, and you haven’t shown it me yet. Can I?” John said as he opened his hand and pointed it in Sherlock’s direction. He placed it carefully in John’s outstretched hand and gave him a stern look.

“Oh well done brother. How fascinating. I brought you here because I want you to go to America. Just you and not John. The only reason why I asked him to come here was that I knew he’d get in the car with you anyway.” Mycroft stated arrogantly to the shocked John. Before John could protest, Sherlock quickly answered back, “Wherever I go, John comes too. I need an assistant and John is the only one that will work with me.”

“I’m sorry Sherlock but he can’t leave the country. It’s too dangerous.”

“You don’t understand. I need him” Sherlock pleaded with his brother.

“I’m afraid I cannot let him out of the country. Moriarty’s men are still looking for you and if he leaves I can’t have full surveillance over him. I’m sorry Sherlock, but this is for you to do alone.” Mycroft stated.

“Mycroft, listen. John is coming with me and that if final. I’m with him, he’ll be perfectly safe!”

“Um, boys, do I not get a say in this?” John asked.

“No!” exclaimed Sherlock and Mycroft simultaneously. The look John gave Sherlock was one that could make the Queen sell the country, one that could make bankers just hand over the money. It was also one that made Sherlock change his mind. “Ok John, what do you want to do?” Sherlock unwilling asked.

“I’m going to America with Sherlock and you, Mycroft are not stopping me. I never found you threatening when we first met, and I still don’t now.” John told the two men.

“I see that I cannot change your mind John. Fine, you may go. But, I cannot control what happens over there, I do not occupy a minor place in their Government.” Mycroft stated slyly.  
  
So, it was decided. Sherlock and John had a week before they had to leave for America. They would get the first flight next Monday and they would fly on a normal passenger plane to try and stop Moriarty or his men from tracking them, even though both Sherlock and John knew that they would, somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try and upload the next chapter soon :)


End file.
